


Until the End

by themarkerfairy



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Blood, Gore, and manly tears dripping down my face
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 06:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6459031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themarkerfairy/pseuds/themarkerfairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though he hoped it wouldn't, Ja'far always knew it might end like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the End

Sinbad wakes up because something is dripping on his face.  He slaps at it, and his fingers come up warm and sticky, so he opens his eyes to determine the cause.  

Ja’far is above him, his body pinning him beneath his blankets, and he is crying.  Crying and  _ bleeding _ .  

“Ja’far!”  He gives a horrified gasp, because he doesn’t even know how Ja’far is still conscious.  Ja’far’s right arm is hanging limp and useless, severed deep and barely attached to his shoulder by some fragmented bone and a few strings of sinew.  Even more gruesome is the slash in his throat, a sort of morbid, fleshy grin, drip-drip-dripping down his neck, onto his shirt, staining the white bedsheets.  

“What on earth happened?”  Sinbad immediately tries to shoot up with the intent of screaming for a healer, but stops when he feels a razor-sharp blade dig into his throat, cutting a thin, red line, a disturbing mimicry of Ja’far’s own wound.  

“She’s dead, Sin.”  Ja’far’s vocal cords must have been damaged, because it is barely a strained whisper.  

“Who?”

“Hakuei, Gyokuen, Arba, whatever the  _ fuck  _ that was.”  

“You killed her?”  The only thing stopping Sinbad from screaming it is the knife pushing down on his airway.  All his plans, all their sacrifices, now in jeopardy.  “She’s only going to come back; you can’t kill someone like her.  Now, get off me and get to a damn doctor!”  

“No, I couldn’t kill  _ her _ , only her body, but Yamuraiha could do the rest.  We figured out, between us, what she’s been doing, what you’ve been  _ letting  _ her do.”  

“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” Sinbad spits.  “But Yamu, too?  Who else is in on this?  And why are you bleeding like that if Yamuraiha is here?  

“She’s dead, too.”  Ja’far grins with all teeth and no joy, tears dripping down his face and tracking through bloodstains.  “Oh, I told her not to, but it was the only way to stop that monster, at least for good.  She was brilliant, a genius.  You’d have been so proud.”  

“Yamu is  _ dead _ ?”  Sinbad feels the first real and visceral inkling of panic in his chest.  “Ja’far, you can’t just--”

“I always told you I’d end it like this, if you became so pathetic again,” he interrupts, eyes bleary with blood loss, a death grip on his knife.  “I wish I didn’t have to.  I wish I didn’t have to.”  He trails off in confusion.  

“You don’t have to, Ja’far.  We can still fix this.”  

“No!”  Ja’far hisses.  “I should have done this years ago.  It’s too late now.  If only I hadn’t been so damn  _ soft. _ ”  

Sinbad realizes he may have made a fatal miscalculation, assuming Ja’far didn’t have this in him, after all these years.  He should have listened, every time Ja’far warned him.  He should have listened to Ja’far about a lot of things.  He’d try to wrestle Ja’far off of himself, but even as fast and strong as he is, as weakened and desperate as Ja’far looks, Sinbad still isn’t as quick as Ja’far’s knife.  

“I loved you more than anything, you know.  Still do.  Damn me to hell.”  

“Then  _ please _ , let’s fix this.”  Sinbad seizes onto this last thread.  

Ja’far laughs, but it only comes out as a strained gurgle.  “It’s years too late for that now.  You can’t take back what you’ve done, nor would you.  I  _ know _ you, Sin.”  

“I love you too.  I always have,” Sinbad whispers.  “I’ve told you that a hundred times.”  

“Not enough.”  Ja’far bends down until his face is mere inches from Sinbad’s, and Sinbad can see him tonguing for something in the back of his mouth, something Sinbad hadn’t seen him keep in years.  

“Don’t you dare, Ja’far.  Don’t you  _ fucking dare _ leave me here.”  

“I won’t be leaving you for long.  You’ll have maybe thirty seconds; a minute, if you’re lucky.  Even if someone finds you, there will be no saving you.”  Ja’far leans in until his forehead is resting against Sinbad’s, gives him one last look of pure despair and horror capped with a soft smile, and bites down on his cyanide capsule.  

“I trusted you once, Sin.  We all trusted you.”  

Sinbad feels a split second of searing pain, and then nothing as Ja’far’s knife severs his spinal cord, moments before Ja’far seizes violently over him and collapses.  

Sinbad finds himself counting, unable to feel his body, faced with Ja’far’s lifeless eyes and the knowledge that he’s quickly dying.  And Ja’far was right, nearly down to the second, though Sinbad makes it a full thirty-four.  

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If I have to suffer so do you
> 
> I don't actually write stuff like this, but seeing as everything else I'm working on is tens of thousands of words long and still not done, this is what I have.
> 
> Also Sinbad has been super rude lately, so he deserves it.


End file.
